Unspoken Bond

The men slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh white light. The room felt unfamiliar, sterile. As he looked around in confusion, he realized he was lying on a hospital bed. Pain throbbed in his head, and his body felt weak.

The man is none other than Manish singhania itself.

He struggled to piece together what had happened. His mind was hazy. Before he could think further, a nurse entered the room.

"Sir, are you alright?" she asked gently.

"Yeah..." he muttered, trying to sit up.

"Please don’t strain yourself," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You’re still recovering. Your internal injuries need time to heal."

He gave a slight nod. "How did I get here?"

"A girl brought you in," the nurse replied.

"Who was she?"

"I’m not sure. She didn’t stay long."

Manish nodded faintly, processing her words.

"I’ll call the doctor now. He’ll come check on you," she added before stepping out.

Soon after, the doctor walked in with a warm smile.

"How are you feeling sir ?"

"My head still hurts... and there’s pain in a few other places too," he admitted.

"That’s expected. But don’t worry, you’re on the road to recovery," the doctor reassured him. "You’re lucky that girl brought you in when she did. If she hadn’t, things could’ve turned much worse."

.

.

The receptionist dialed Saanvi’s number to update her about Mr. Singhania.

“Hello… ma’am, the man you brought in this morning has regained consciousness.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” she replied before ending the call and hurrying toward the hospital.

No one truly knew who he was. Manish Singhania was a man of mystery—rarely seen in public, hardly ever appearing in the media. While almost everyone knew his name, very few had ever seen his face.

The doctor checked on him again. “It’ll take time for your injuries to heal. Please take care of yourself.”

“Where is your family?” the doctor asked.

“They don’t live in India,” he replied.

“Oh… but how should we inform them about your condition?”

“I’ll contact them myself,” he assured.

“Alright, just be careful.”

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a young woman stepped in. It was none other than Saanvi.

The sky was painted with fading shades of orange as I rode my scooty through the familiar lanes of the city. My mind was heavy with thoughts about the man I had found earlier that day—injured, unconscious, and barely alive after the blast. I had done what I could, rushed him to the hospital, and left only after ensuring the doctors had taken over.

Just as I neared the hospital road again, my phone rang. It was an unknown number, but something told me to answer. I pulled over to the roadside and checked the screen. It was a call from the hospital.

“Hello?” I answered quickly.

“Ma’am,” said a voice on the other end, “the man you brought in this morning… he’s regained consciousness.”

Relief swept through me instantly. “Okay… I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I replied and ended the call.

I didn’t know why, but my heart began to race. Something about this felt different, deeper. I restarted my scooty and rushed toward the hospital without delay. The roads blurred past me, but my thoughts were focused. It was strange—why was I so desperate to see this man? Maybe because he's around the same age as my father.

As soon as I reached the hospital, I parked in the lot and walked briskly inside. My footsteps echoed down the corridor as I approached the reception desk.

“Excuse me,” I asked. “The man I brought in this morning—where is he now?”

“Room number 302,” the receptionist said, glancing up briefly from her monitor.

“Thank you.”

I didn’t pause to think further. Climbing the stairs two at a time, I reached the room and stood outside for a second, collecting myself. Then I slowly pushed the door open.

There he was—lying on the hospital bed, awake, alert, and looking much better than the last time I had seen him.

I walked in quietly and approached his bedside.

“How are you, uncle?” I asked gently.

He looked at me, confused. His eyes scanned my face, unfamiliar and strange to him.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice unsure.

Before I could reply, a nurse entered the room and smiled at him.

“Sir, she’s the same girl who brought you here.”

His expression shifted from confusion to recognition. He looked at me again, this time with warmth in his eyes.

“Oh… so you’re the one,” he said with a faint smile. “Thank you so much, beta, for helping me.”

I returned his smile. “There’s no need to thank me, uncle.”

“Are you okay now?” I asked, concerned.

He nodded slowly. “Yes, beta. I’m fine now, thanks to you.”

“Please don’t stand,” he added, noticing I was still on my feet. “Sit, please.”

I sat down on a stool beside the bed and looked around the room. It was quiet. Too quiet. No one else was there—no family, no friends. It felt… empty.

A thought crossed my mind. Does he even know what happened? Has anyone come to see him?

He must’ve sensed my silence. “What’s on your mind, beta?” he asked softly.

I hesitated. “Nothing, uncle... I just wondered… don’t you have any family?”

He chuckled at my question, his voice light despite the setting. “It’s not like that, beta. My family doesn’t live in India.”

“Oh,” I nodded, understanding a little more now. “But… they should be informed. They need to know what happened to you.”

“Don’t worry,” he said kindly. “I’ll talk to them later.”

Then he surprised me by folding his hands, a humble gesture of gratitude. “Thank you again, beta, for saving me.”

I quickly reached out and stopped him. “Please don’t do that, uncle. You’re like my father. And besides, I wasn’t alone. Another uncle helped me too—if it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have managed to get you here on time.”

He smiled, his eyes full of emotion.

Saanvi looked at the man with concern and gently asked, “Uncle, what exactly happened to you?”

Manish sighed, then began to narrate his experience.

“I had just landed in India around 5 in the morning,” he began. “After that, I got into my car and my driver started driving. Everything was normal—we were going at a regular speed—when suddenly, a truck appeared out of nowhere. The driver of the truck seemed drunk. He lost control and crashed straight into our car. While the truck barely suffered any damage and sped away from the scene, our car flipped two or three times from the impact.”

He paused briefly, eyes reflecting the memory.

“Because of the collision, the petrol pipe got damaged and started leaking. We were both injured. My driver, noticing the petrol leak, immediately told me to get out of the car. Somehow, I managed to crawl out, but he was still inside. I kept telling him, ‘You go first, I’ll follow,’ but he refused to leave. I tried to help him… but before I could do anything, the car exploded. After that, everything went black. I must’ve fainted.”

Saanvi stared at him in shock, speechless at what she had just heard.

He lowered his gaze and whispered, “He lost his life because of me.”

She looked at him, her eyes soft, blinking slowly as she lowered her gaze.

Then he asked gently, “But beta, how did you find me?”

Saanvi took a deep breath and replied, “I was near the blast site… I was checking the area when I saw a hand among the debris. As I moved closer, I realized someone was still alive. I checked your pulse, and without thinking much, I rushed you to the hospital.”

Manish looked at her, touched, and gave her a grateful smile.

“What’s your name, beta?” he asked.

“Saanvi Jain,” she answered with a small smile.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said warmly.

Just then, her phone rang. It was her mother calling.

“Excuse me, uncle,” she said, stepping aside to answer.

“Hello?” she spoke into the phone.

“Where are you, beta? It’s already 8 p.m. When will you come home?” her mother asked anxiously.

“I’m on my way.”

“But where are you?”

“I’ll explain everything once I get home.”

“Come quickly, beta. It’s late… you know how unsafe the world is these days. Be careful.”

“Yes, mata… I’m coming.”

“Hmm... come safely, okay?”

As Saanvi ended the call, Manish had been quietly observing her.

“Beta, it’s already quite late. You should head home,” he said gently.

“But uncle, what about you?”

“I’m fine here, don’t worry. Are you alone or is someone with you?”

“Actually, I came straight from the office,” she admitted.

“Then you must go. Your mother must be really worried,” he said kindly. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

“Alright, uncle. Take care. I’ll come see you again tomorrow,” she promised.

“Okay, beta. Travel safely.”

Saanvi smiled, gave him a nod, and quietly left the hospital.

But not before instructing the nurse to take care of him.

In New York ~

I barely sleep these days. Every night, the same memories flood my mind, playing over and over like a broken film reel. No matter how much I try to escape them, the images haunt me. They’ve carved a place so deep inside me that I know I’ll never truly forget.

Maybe that’s why I’ve lost all interest in marriage. To me, it feels like just another meaningless custom imposed by society—something that never really made sense. I’ve made peace with the idea of being alone. I don’t need anyone. I can live my life on my own terms.

This morning, I got up with the same heaviness in my chest. I pushed myself out of bed and went through my usual routine. Another day begins.

After getting ready, I stepped out of my room. I saw everyone sitting at the dining table, but I didn’t say a word. I didn’t even look at them—I just kept walking toward the door.

Before I could step out, I heard my mom call my name.

“Viyansh,” she said.

I stopped and glanced at her. “Hmm?” I replied, barely masking my disinterest.

“Beta, at least eat something,” she said with concern in her voice.

“I’m not hungry,” I muttered and continued moving toward the door.

“Beta, listen to me,” she said again, this time more insistently.

“Look, Viyansh… just think about it. Kritika is a good girl. Please reconsider your decision.”

Her words hit a nerve. I clenched my jaw as anger started bubbling up inside me.

“Viyansh beta,” she continued, “you can’t carry the weight of the past forever. Not everyone is the same. Just give her one chance.”

I didn’t respond. Her words echoed in my head, stirring the very memories I had been trying to bury. My heart pounded. I rubbed my temple, trying to control the storm rising inside me. I didn’t want to explode—not on her.

Without saying another word, I turned around, walked out, and headed straight to my car.

Poonam ji stood silently by the window, her eyes following Viyansh as he walked away. He didn’t look back. He never did.

She let out a weary sigh. “Oh God, what should I do now? Why doesn’t he understand?”

Nandini ji, standing nearby, gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, didi. He’s grown up now. Sooner or later, he’ll come to understand what’s right.”

Poonam’s voice cracked slightly. “Life can’t keep going like this, Nandini. I want to see him happy… truly settled… with a family of his own.”

Just then, Vedant stepped , hesitant but determined. “Badi maa,” he said carefully, “If Viyansh doesn’t want to marry Kritika, maybe we should let him choose someone else.”

Poonam turned sharply toward him. “Are you out of your mind, Vedant? Kritika is perfect for him! She has everything I’ve ever wanted in a daughter-in-law—wealth, elegance, class. She matches our status. And don’t forget, she’s been Viyansh’s friend since childhood.”

Muskan voice joined in—bold and firm. “Exactly. Kritika is everything this house needs. I don’t want my brother to marry just any random girl.” It was Viyansh’s younger sister, stepping forward with pride.

“She’s my best friend,” she added with confidence. “I know her inside and out. She’s the right one for him. I proudly introduce her to my friends as my future sister-in-law.”

Vedant, still calm, tried to reason again. “But you all can see he doesn’t want this marriage. Maybe he just doesn’t feel the same way about Kritika. Maybe he—”

“Shut up, Vedant!” Poonam snapped, her voice rising. “You don’t understand. He’s just clinging to the past. And I won’t let just any random girl become the daughter-in-law of this house.”

“But Badi maa,” Vedant pleaded one last time, “Please, just once… think about what Viyansh really wants.”

She stared him down coldly. “I said enough.” Her voice was sharp and final. “Viyansh will marry Kritika. That’s the end of the discussion.”

Kritika was also standing there, witnessing everything unfold.

Oh God, what is wrong with Viyansh? she thought in frustration. Why can't he just agree to marry me? she muttered through clenched teeth.

And then there’s Vedant—what is his issue? she added bitterly. I’ve never liked him, not even as a kid. Every time I try to talk to Viyansh, he somehow manages to get in the way, she said in a voice dripping with resentment.

.

.

.

On his way to the office, Viyansh was driving alone, the car speeding down the road. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his jaw clenched with tension. His mother's words kept echoing in his mind—“You can’t live in the past forever, Viyansh. Not everyone is like her. You have to move on.”

As he reached the office, he slammed the brakes and quickly stepped out of the car, storming inside. His presence was intimidating—his eyes bloodshot with anger. People around him were already fearful of his temper. He walked straight to his private elevator and hit the button for the 57th floor.

The moment he entered his cabin, he began throwing things around—his usual way of venting frustration. He shut his eyes tightly and rubbed his temples, trying to calm himself. His fists kept clenching and unclenching as he struggled to control his rage.

A soft knock came at the door.

“Come in,” he snapped in a harsh tone.

“Sir, the deal with Mr. Jones... it’s been called off,” the employee informed nervously.

“You can’t even handle a simple task!” he yelled, his voice filled with fury. “You’re fired. Get out!”

“But sir—” the employee tried to explain.

“I said get out!” he shouted again, even louder.

The employee winced and quickly exited the room.

Suddenly, his phone began ringing—it was a call from one of his men.

“This better be important, or you’re going to regret it,” Viyansh warned coldly.

“Sir... Manish sir was in an accident yesterday morning. A truck crashed into his car,” the man informed hesitantly.

“What??” Viyansh shouted in disbelief.

“Yes, sir. We just found out he’s been admitted to a hospital. He’s out of danger now. A girl brought him there.”

“What the hell! And you're telling me this now?” Viyansh growled furiously.

“Apologies, sir. We only got the information today,” the man explained.

“Which hospital is he in?” he demanded.

“Sir, it’s one of your hospital branches in India.”

“Send me every detail about that hospital—his reports, everything. I want the best doctors attending to my father. And track down that truck driver. I want him brought to America. Immediately.”

.

.

.

In India

The cool night breeze brushed against Saanvi’s face as she stepped out of the hospital. The city was quieter now, with only the occasional honk or distant chatter breaking the stillness. She walked toward the parking lot, her heels clicking softly against the pavement, the events of the evening replaying in her mind like a silent film.

As she started her scooty, her thoughts were consumed by Manish ji's story. The pain in his voice, the way he blamed himself, the guilt he carried—it lingered with her. He wasn’t just a stranger anymore. Somewhere between that blast and hospital room, he had become something more. A responsibility? A connection? She couldn't tell yet.

She reached home a little past 8:30 p.m. The lights in the living room were on, and as soon as she entered, her mother rushed to her.

“Beta, where were you? I’ve been so worried!” her mother exclaimed, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m sorry, mata,” Saanvi said gently. “I had to go to the hospital.”

“Hospital?” Her mother’s eyes widened. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine… It’s just…” She paused, wondering how much to say.

She sat down on the couch, and her mother followed. “I found a man near the blast site today—he was badly injured. I took him to the hospital. That’s where I was all evening. He’s okay now.”

Her mother’s face softened. “You helped someone you didn’t even know?”

Saanvi nodded. “Yes. I don’t know why… but I couldn’t just leave him there.”

Her mother placed a hand on her head and smiled. “You did the right thing, beta. Not everyone has the courage to act in the moment.”

Saanvi smiled warmly and nodded. "Yes, Mata ji, you've always guided me well," she said, wrapping her arms around her mother.

"Alright, now go freshen up and have something to eat. You must be tired," her mother said. Saanvi nodded and went to her room to change.

.

.

.

The moment his identity was revealed, the entire hospital shifted into high alert. One of India’s top doctors was urgently called in for his treatment. Staff scrambled in every direction, tense and alert.

Viyansh had already made it clear to the management—

"If even the slightest mark appears on my father, none of you will be spared. The consequences will be severe."

His words echoed like a warning siren, and no one dared to take them lightly.

Viyansh's men had already reached the hospital. As soon as Manish ji saw him, he said, “Aditya? You’re here?”

Aditya, Viyansh’s most trusted man, gave a respectful nod. The moment Manish ji had informed them about his trip to the Jaipur branch, Viyansh had instructed his team to keep a close watch on his father's movements to ensure his safety. But Manish ji had suddenly changed his plans and left earlier than expected, making it hard for them to keep up.

“Sir, are you alright?” Aditya asked with genuine concern.

Manish ji gave a small smile. “Ah, so Viyansh sent you here, didn’t he? This boy…”

Just then, Aditya’s phone rang—it was Viyansh calling. He immediately picked up.

“Yes, sir… we’ve found him.”

“Good. Let me talk to him,” came Viyansh’s voice.

Aditya turned to Manish ji and handed over the phone. “Sir, Viyansh sir wants to speak with you.”

Manish ji took the phone. “Hello?”

“Dad! Are you okay? Did anything happen? Are you safe? I swear, if I find that driver, I won’t spare him!”

Manish chuckled softly. “Calm down, young man. I’m fine. Nothing major happened.”

“I told you not to go there, didn’t I? Why don’t you ever listen to me? There was no need for you to visit that branch—we could’ve sent someone else,” Viyansh said, clearly frustrated.

Manish’s tone was calm and composed. “It’s alright, beta. I was getting bored sitting at home anyway. And there were quite a few complaints about that branch, so I thought it was time I handled it myself.”

"Now listen, Dad. Aditya will take care of everything for you. He’ll stay with you all the time until you fully recover. Once you’re discharged, you’re coming straight here—and this time, I won’t hear any excuses."

"Okay, beta, as you say."

"Dad, please take care of yourself," he added.

Manish nodded with a gentle smile.

He then handed the phone to Aditya.

"Aditya," he said, "Yes, sir?"

"Listen carefully. Stay with Dad at all times until he reaches here. Take proper care of him. If anything happens, inform me immediately. Also, send me regular updates and reports. And make sure the doctors are strictly instructed—there should be no negligence."

"Yes, sir," Aditya replied.